


Don't You Quit On Me!

by Traw



Category: The Streets of San Francisco
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12905313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traw/pseuds/Traw
Summary: Mike's thoughts while he held Steve in the back of the car on their desperate race to the hospital- after Steve was shot in the double episode of 'The Thrill Killers'.





	Don't You Quit On Me!

I’m sitting here feeling so helpless, so useless, and oh, so, so scared. I can feel the blood as it pumps through my fingers with each weak heartbeat as I try and press harder, trying desperately to stem, or even just slow the flow, even if it’s just a little. Just as long as it’s enough to give him the chance to reach the hospital alive.

I can’t lose him now! Not now, not ever! Not this way! He’s my partner, my closest friend … my Buddy Boy! He’s more than that, he’s family! He is the son Helen and I never had, and the man Jeannie loves like an older brother.

I swallow hard as I try to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall and quickly glance out the window to see where we are, desperate to see the hospital gates in front of us but I know even at the speed we are going, we are still several streets away.

My hold on him tightens as I feel the car take a corner on just two wheels, the siren is almost deafening, the streets are almost empty. It feels like the night, itself, is holding its breath.

I look back down and find him staring up at me as I tell him where we are and try to reassure him that medical help is nearby. His face is so pale, almost a deathly grey complexion, and his lips are tinged with blue as he struggles to take each small, painful breath. I pull him a little closer and hold him a little tighter, my heart shattering into a million little pieces, as I find myself watching the light fading from his eyes as he stares at something that I can’t see.

“Don’t you quit on me!” I order him desperately, even though I fear that the choice to fight or quit  may no longer be his to make. 'Please don't quit on me, Steve, not now, not ever!' becomes the mantra I whisper softly in his ear as I feel him grow limp in my arms and watch his eyes slowly close.


End file.
